A Change in Circumstances
by missikagirl
Summary: An unplanned night at Molly's flat after The Fall leads to Molly's becoming pregnant. When Sherlock returns two years later, he has no idea what lies in store for him. (beta'd by TardisNamedJack; thank you so much!)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was gloomy inside St. Bart's morgue. No different than any other day, except Molly Hooper felt decidedly melancholy. She wasn't sure how she was going to handle the aftermath of her decisions of today, but no matter what it would be worth it. She would do anything for Sherlock, and he knew it.

When he came to her earlier that morning and asked for her help, she was not a little bit shocked. Sherlock never asked for help, at least not from her. And the look in his eyes was one she'd never seen on him before. There was his usual self-assurance on his face, but behind that there was fear and sadness in his eyes. She, of course, couldn't refuse him.

So she lied. On paper and in person.

"He's dead. Sherlock Holmes is dead."

The words caught in her throat, not wanting to be said, or heard. Tears streaming down her face. Her voice cracking.

John was broken. His eyes were puffy and red from unshed tears demanding release, although he did his best to look neutral to this information that was not actually news to him. He had watched Sherlock jump after all.

As John walked out of the morgue, without a word to Molly, she noticed him limping slightly. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. How was she going to keep up this ruse for however long she needed to? She had barely made it through telling John and he wasn't going to be the last one she was to talk to.

She dreaded the visit from Sherlock's brother, Mycroft. She had heard John and Sherlock talk about him before and in the few times she had met him he had lived up to his reputation. Cold and terrifying, even when he wasn't trying to be.

Sherlock peered out of her office after John had left and stared after his best friend. His face showed nothing but his eyes showed all the pain he was feeling. He was leaving everything he knew and loved just to keep his friends safe. He was letting sentiment rule his life for once and the result was his leaving everything he knew and everyone he had let himself grow to love. No wonder he had fought against it so hard in the past.

Molly wiped away the tears that were silently falling down her face and turned to look at him. He stood there staring at her.

"Are you crying to make it more believable or because seeing John believe I am dead makes you cry?"

Molly stared at him, mouth open slightly.

"You always say such horrible things," she turned around and looked down at the floor. "I'm crying because you died today." The tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her face. Her words were met with silence.

When she got her tears under control she turned around and looked at Sherlock again. He was looking at her as though she were a puzzle. Never before had he looked at her like that. He always knew everything about her.

She shuffled her feet and looked to the floor again, pushing loose hair back behind her ear. "What?" She said nervously, and bit her lower lip.

"You know I am alive and still you are upset at my death," pause, "is it because you have to lie?"

Molly shifted again, getting more nervous. She looked up into his eyes, "Whether you're alive or not makes no difference because none of us will see you again," she paused. "We'll miss you. _I'll_ miss you." Her eyes went straight back to the floor as she finished talking and she turned again to walk away, when he grabbed her arm and held he still.

"I have to go and you have to keep my secret. I can't have John finding out and following me or trying to find me." The hard look in his eyes was back. This was the Sherlock she knew.

She reached up and touched his cheek, "Of course I'll keep your secret. I'd do anything for you." Half a second later she realized what she had said and yanked her hand away from his face. "Oh God! I'm sorry, I didn't… I… I…" Her face turned bright red and she couldn't form any kind of thought beyond horror at herself for what just happened.

Sherlock took a step back and continued to stare at Molly. After a moment he said "I still need to stay at your flat tonight. As I said before it'll only be tonight. I have everything in order to leave tomorrow." There was no hint of emotion in his voice, as usual.

Molly swallowed and said "Of course." She smiled weakly and turned to walk towards the locker room. She changed quickly and met Sherlock at her office. He had changed into the clothes she had gotten for him and looked nothing like himself.

"We cannot risk a cab, or the tube. We'll have to walk to your flat," He stated calmly.

Molly looked at him. "It's almost an hour walk, Sherlock."

"I like to walk," Was all he said as he made his way out of the building, leaving her to trail behind him as usual. After a few feet he realized what he was doing and slowed his steps to match hers.

They left St. Bart's together and walked the long distance to Molly's flat. When they arrived, Molly was slightly out of breath and flushed. Sherlock looked as he always did. Molly turned the key in her lock and opened the door. Instantly, there was an orange ball of fluff rubbing on her legs and purring. She smiled and bent down to pick him up.

"Sorry mommy's late Toby, we decided to walk home today." She smiled and kissed the kitty, then put him back down. She glanced at Sherlock who was standing by the closed door talking in his surroundings. Molly blushed slightly as she too looked around and realized that she hadn't tidied up her flat in a couple of weeks. There were dishes piled up in the sink, books and clothes scattered all over the living area and cat hair EVERYWHERE. She glanced again at Sherlock, who just continued to stand by the door.

"Sorry 'bout the mess. Um, please, um make yourself at home," she tried to smile at him but embarrassment won out as she darted around the flat picking up everything and tossing it into her room and firmly shutting the door. When she looked back, he was sitting on her couch, eye to eye with Toby. Toby stared back and must have finally decided that he liked Sherlock because he stood up and jumped onto Sherlock's lap and instantly settled down. Sherlock sat back and stared at the cat.

"Oh sorry, he likes people," Molly said, "He doesn't get to meet many though." She bent over to pick up Toby but Sherlock waved her away.

"He's fine, just leave him."

"Oh, um, ok." Molly shuffled her feet and looked around. "Do you want some tea or coffee or food? I can order in?"

"No I'm fine," replied Sherlock. After a moment he added, "But thank you anyway."

Molly blushed and sat down in her recliner, bringing her legs up underneath herself. They sat there for a few minutes, neither saying anything, the only noise being Toby's purring as Sherlock absent mindedly scratched the kitty's back.

Molly turned on the telly to ease the silence. It was the news. In big bold letters it said "Reichenbach fake falls to death." Molly turned it back off and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Sherlock's hand had stilled on Toby's back.

"I'm going to order in, are you sure you don't want anything?" Molly looked anxiously at Sherlock who was just sitting there staring at the black screen of the telly. "Sherlock?" Molly reached over and touched his arm. Jerking slightly at the contact, Sherlock said simply, "Not hungry."

"Oh. Of course. Ok. Um. I'll be right back." She left the living room and went to the kitchen to grab a menu and order herself some dinner. She picked one that she thought Sherlock might like and ordered two full meals hoping that he might get hungry later.

It had been about five minutes since she left to order food and when she walked back into the living room, Sherlock wasn't there. Panic seized her for a moment until she heard him behind her bedroom door. She walked over and opened her door to see him sitting on her bed looking at the mess she'd left. He looked up at her and her face caught fire. A blush so deep her whole body burned from the heat.

"Oh God. Um… I um, didn't get a chance to, well, um, clean up," Molly stumbled over a pile of books trying, in vain, to block Sherlock's view of her dirty laundry pile.

"Those don't look very comfortable, and you don't have a boyfriend or lover, so why would you wear them?" Sherlock nodded towards her lacey bras and knickers laying on the floor.

Molly didn't think she could get any redder. She closed her eyes and silently prayed for the earth to swallow her up.

After a moment of Molly standing there, almost in tears from embarrassment, Sherlock said, "Oh, not appropriate was it? I'm sorry. I don't do well with politeness, as you know." With that he got up and went back to the couch. Molly stood there for a good long time trying to compose herself, before following him to the living room.

"Wha…? Why were you in my room?" Molly asked him when she could again form words without squeaking.

"Curiosity," was all the response she got.

"Oh. Um, why?"

Before he could answer, which it didn't look like he was going to anyway, there was a knock at the door. Both of their heads swung towards the door with shock written all over.

"That'll be your food," Sherlock said after a moment.

"Oh, right, sorry." Molly grabbed her purse and pulled out her wallet and went to the door. Before opening it she glanced to where Sherlock was sitting, He had removed himself to her room again so as not to be seen. She just wished he'd chosen somewhere else to hide. She opened the door and paid the boy and took her food to the kitchen. She pulled two plates down from the cupboard and piled both of them with food and headed back to the living room. Sherlock was back on the couch with Toby on his lap. He looked up when she sat the plate in front of him.

"Not hungry," he said before pushing it back towards her.

"Eat," she replied, pushing it back to him.

He cocked his head and looked up at her for a moment before giving in and taking the food.

Pleased with herself, Molly folded herself into her recliner and started eating. They ate in companionable silence for a while before Sherlock piped up.

"I really am not hungry, Molly."

She looked at his plate and he'd eaten about 5 bites, small ones. The look on her face told him that she didn't like what he was saying.

"Honestly, I can't eat," he pushed.

"Ok," was all the said. He put his plate down and she finished her own food.

"Did you not like it? I didn't know what you'd like so I guessed. Would you have eaten something else?" Her voice was so small at the end that he almost didn't hear her.

"No, Molly. I told you before that I wasn't hungry and I was serious. Just like I am now."

She flinched slightly and tucked her feet a little tighter under her.

Sherlock noticed and closed his eyes briefly.

"Molly, I didn't mean to snap. I'm used to people doing as I say and not second guessing me. That's all. John never pushes food on me when I'm not hungry." His voice quivered slightly on john's name.

"I guess it's just my maternal instincts," she laughed, then realized what she's said. "Oh, God! Sorry! So sorry, I…"

"Molly, don't make jokes," He said to her with a small smile on his face. Molly visibly relaxed and got up to take care of the dishes.

While Molly was in the kitchen Sherlock went to the bathroom to change out of his disguise and into a grey t shirt and sweatpants that were going to be his pajamas for a while. He put on his dressing gown over his clothes and went back to the living room and saw the couch had been made into a bed. It didn't look very comfortable but it was better than the streets. Molly was in her room already so Sherlock laid down and tried to stop his brain from thinking and go to sleep. He could hear her moving around her room and could picture what she was doing. Picking up the books and putting them away. Putting the laundry in a basket. Picturing her laundry brought an image of Molly in her undergarments to his mind.

Sherlock shook his head as if to shake it free of those thoughts. Where had that come from? He never thought about anyone like that, not even The Woman, and she had given him lots to think about. He just wasn't interested. He had more important things on his mind. So why now? And why Molly? Was it the stress of today's events? Faking one's own death was bound to have unforeseen consequences and reactions.

He listened to her change her clothes and crawl into bed. The light under her door went out and everything was dark. Then he heard her sigh and the light turned back on. She got out of bed opened her door and peeked out.

"Um, Sherlock?" She said unsteadily.

"What?" He snapped, then immediately felt bad. It wasn't her fault he was struggling to keep his mind off her body.

She flinched and looked down.

"I have to leave my door open. Toby sleeps with me but his litter box is in the bathroom. He'll need to be able to go back and forth." She stood there for a moment longer, but when it was obvious he wasn't going to respond, she left the door cracked and went back to bed and turned off her lamp.

Sherlock sighed to himself and rolled over. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Molly stared at her ceiling. Sherlock, her Sherlock, was sleeping in the next room. She was never going to be able to sleep with him in her flat. Toby jumped off her bed and she watched as he went to the door and left her alone with her thoughts. A moment later she heard a startled noise come from the living room. She got up and went to the door. As she opened it and went to step out, her body collided with Sherlock's. He didn't look happy.

"I'm sleeping in here and that creature can have my bed, since he wants it so bloody badly." And with that, Sherlock strode over to Molly's bed and climbed in. Molly was left standing there staring incredulously at him.

"Close the door, I don't want him jumping on me in my sleep," Sherlock rolled over.

Molly closed the door but continued to stand there staring at her bed. Was she supposed to sleep there as well, or was she meant to go to the couch with Toby?

Sherlock looked up. "You coming to bed or are you just going to stand there all night?" Sherlock sounded almost irritated.

Molly slowly walked over and climbed into her bed, on the opposite side than she normally slept on. Not only was Sherlock in _her_ bed, he was sleeping in her spot. She lay there quietly, while her mind raced. She couldn't sleep like this. Just when she decided to get up and sleep on the couch, Sherlock rolled over and wrapped his arms around her. Molly went rigid. Her breathing hitched and her heart began to race.

Was this really happening? Was Sherlock Holmes really in her bed with his arms wrapped around her, Molly Hooper? She had to be dreaming. That was the only thing that made any sense. She carefully pinched herself.

"Molly, stop thinking and sleep." His deep voice reverberated in her ear.

"I… I… I'm just confused," Molly squeaked.

Sherlock sighed into her hair and released her. He propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at her. She looked up and watched his eyes darken as he sought for words.

"Molly," He shook his head slightly, "I don't think like normal people. To me, this is… well, comfortable. It means nothing, I just want to be comfortable after today's events. Do you want me to leave or can we just sleep in comfort?" It felt like he could see through her, into her very soul.

"So you want to use me for comfort and leave me in the morning?" she looked away. "You really don't care about anyone else do you? John, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade are the ONLY people besides yourself who matter to you. You just needed me to help you and give you a place to stay tonight. And you don't like my cat so you took my bed." She paused, and straightened herself and went to get out of the bed. "I'll take the couch. See you in the morning."

Sherlock reached out and grabbed her arm. "Molly, wait," he hesitated, "please?" He ground out the last word. Molly turned to look at him and mentally kicked herself. How could she say no to him? She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her hands in her lap. Sherlock gently pulled on her arm, making her lie down again. He kept himself propped up over her and leaned down and kissed her.

Her head was swimming, she felt like she was going to die from pure pleasure. Her hands went up to his tangle in his hair. He kissed her gently for several seconds before abruptly ending it and staring at her dazedly.

What had he been thinking? That was clearly the wrong way to make her feel better about his presence. It worked for her but it also worked too well for him. He was supposed to be distancing himself from her as to make his departure easier on everyone, not snogging her in her own bed.

Her fingers were still wound into his hair and she was looking at him warily but expectantly.

"Sherlock?" She sounded breathy and nervous. Was he changing his mind?

He sat there for a few moments before kissing her again. Deeper this time. He moved to where he was laying on top of her. She moaned into his mouth and tightened her grip on his head. Her head was spinning out of control. She wrapped her legs around his and leaned up into his body. She was rewarded with the pressure of his increasing desire. He ground his hips down into hers and she moaned louder. He moved his lips from her mouth to her neck. She rocked into him and clawed at his back. She reached down and put her hands under his shirt and gripped the bare skin of his sides. He moaned softly and pulled at her nightgown, lowering her straps down her arms, baring her breasts to him. He claimed one immediately with his mouth and toyed with her aching nipple while he palmed the other. The sounds she was making along with her scattered breathing were music to his ears.

He pulled away after a minute and fully removed her nightgown and her panties. She blushed deeply and used her hands to try to cover herself as he stared. He grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her body above her head so that he could continue to memorize every inch of her body. She struggled slightly and whimpered softly. Sherlock leaned down and kissed her again and let go of her hands. They were instantly pulling at his clothes. He leaned off her again and pulled his shirt over his head. Molly rolled him over onto his back and yanked his pants off and tossed them behind her. Slowly she slid up his body, feeling more confident now that he was as naked as she. She kissed his mouth briefly then started kissing a trail from his jaw, down his chest and stomach, to his groin. He moaned and his hips involuntarily jerked upwards. She smiled and looked up to see his face as she took him into her mouth. He stopped breathing. His mind was so overwhelmed, too many new sensations. The feel of her naked skin on his, her soft body brushing against him, her kissing down his body, the wet hotness of her mouth surrounding him. In his entire life he had never felt anything like it. It was pure sensation. Even in the pleasure haze, he noticed her hesitancy in what she was doing. Realizing that she was not entirely comfortable, he reluctantly reached down and lifted her up so she was laying on his stomach. She looked at him, confused.

"Was it… bad?" She whispered.

"_No_." he cleared his throat. "No, Molly. It wasn't bad. It was… nice?" He cocked his head as he thought about what he'd said. "I have nothing to compare it to."

She still looked slightly deflated, so he kissed her again and rolled so she was under him.

Molly sighed and let the sensations and emotions take control of her body.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next morning Molly woke up alone in her bed. She sighed and closed her eyes tightly. Maybe it had all been a dream. No, the tingling between her legs told her it had really happened. She'd slept with Sherlock Holmes. She opened her eyes, threw off the covers and gingerly got out of bed. Toby needed feeding and she needed coffee.

She picked up her nightgown and put it back on, followed by her dressing gown and slippers. Quietly she opened her door and peeked out. Her flat was empty. Only Toby and she were there. She sighed again. She should've known he wouldn't stick around, that he wouldn't want to deal with the aftermath of last night.

She walked over to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup and found a piece of paper tucked under the corner. She pulled it out and opened it. "Thank you, Doctor Hooper" was all it said. She held it for a moment longer as she realized he was really and truly gone. She wouldn't be seeing him again. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over, cascading down her cheeks. He was gone. Sherlock was gone.

When she was finally able to get herself under control, she fed Toby then drank her coffee while she quickly got ready for work.

When she walked into the morgue of St. Bart's, she felt empty. How many days had she come in to work hoping that today, Sherlock would come in with a case? Today she knew he wouldn't.

Almost as soon as the door closed behind her, it opened again, causing her to jump. Mike Stamford walked into the morgue and did a double take.

"Why are you here, Molly?" He asked her.

"Wha? Well, I… I work here." She paused, "don't I?" the last part she whispered.

"Well of course you do, I just assumed you wouldn't be in for a while, after yesterday…" He trailed off, looking at her face. She was trying to hold back her tears. He wasn't actually dead, after all, just gone. Mike took two steps toward her and wrapped her up in a hug. At this sudden display of friendship, Molly broke down and was sobbing into Mike's shirt. "There, there" he whispered to her. After a couple minutes, Molly had stopped crying and was hiccupping.

"I want to stay," *hiccup* "-working will help keep my mind" *hiccup* "off things."

Mike was unsure, he looked at her for a long moment, then relented. "Alright, you can stay today. But if you feel it's too much, go home. Take a few days." He smiled sadly at her and turned to leave.

Molly threw herself into her work, and caught up on paperwork that she had let go for the last few days.

6 WEEKS LATER

Molly stared at the stick in her hand. The blue plus sign was glaring. She tossed it into the bin with the other three and left the bathroom.

Molly, went to her room and got dressed for work. She tried to put the tests from her mind. After tripping, twice, trying to put on her jeans, she decided that when she got to work she'd do a blood test, just to be sure.

Three hours later she had the results in her hand. She was, without a doubt, pregnant.

What was she going to do? She was in no way prepared for this. She should have been more carefu. Although in her defense, having sex with Sherlock Holmes had not been expected. And she hadn't been sexually active with anyone else in over a year so there was no reason for her to have been on birth control or have condoms. And why would he have had any? He didn't have sex with anyone, ever.

What would John think? Would he think she was lying about the baby being Sherlock's? Maybe she just wouldn't tell him who the father was. Yes, that would be best.  
Molly went about her day as normally as she could. She found herself daydreaming about baby clothes and nursery colors. And who the baby would look like. What if the baby came out looking exactly like Sherlock? She wouldn't be able to lie about it then. Well, hopefully the baby would look just like her and there would be no need to explain.

Now that her shock had passed, she found herself getting excited by the idea of a baby. She did always want kids someday, she just thought she'd be married and happily settled first. But, oh well, everything happens for a reason, she told herself. And she shut down the happy thought of "now I will always have Sherlock with me."

The next time Molly saw John was seven months into her pregnancy. She was shopping for dinner and cat food when she bumped into a blonde lady.

"Oh god. I'm… I'm so sorry," Molly said quickly. The blonde lady smiled and said "Oh, that's ok. Don't worry about it."

Molly was blushing furiously and the blonde lady just smiled at her. Suddenly there was a man beside the blonde lady.

"Oh," he said and Molly looked up at him and her jaw dropped. It was John Watson.

Molly started stammering and was unable to get any coherent words out. John laughed slightly and held up his hand, "It's ok, Molly, I understand. This was an unexpected encounter after months of no contact." He stopped talking and he looked as if he was choking slightly. He smiled tightly and only then did he notice her swollen belly. He then seemed even more uncomfortable than he had only moments before. The blonde lady was watching them like a tennis tournament; back and forth.

"Oh, err, yeah, this is Mary," John finally realized he hadn't introduced them yet. "Mary, this is Molly Hooper. We, err, I used to work with her, on cases."

"Ooh! With Sherlock! Nice to meet you, Molly." Mary held out her hand and smiled genuinely. Molly hesitantly held out her hand and couldn't help but smile shyly. "You are going to have to tell me all about John before I met him," Mary said conspiratorially. Molly blushed furiously and giggled.

She noticed John looked slightly uncomfortable, as if he wanted to say something but didn't know how to word it. Oh yeah, she hadn't seen him since she found out about the pregnancy. Finally John found his voice.

"Uh, err, congratulations," He smiled tightly. "How far along are you?"

"Oh, um, well, 7 months." Molly blushed again and stared at the ground.

Mary's smile never faltered, She looked so happy. Happy for Molly being pregnant, happy for John to have found an old friend.

John's face fell slightly. "Oh. That's… that's wonderful, Molly." He paused. "Do I know the father?" Molly could hear the hope and pain in his voice.

"Oh, err…" Molly stammered. Mary stepped in then.

"Oh John, leave the poor girl alone. Can't you see she's uncomfortable?" Mary smiled at Molly again and Molly smiled back.

"Sherlock," Molly blurted.

John looked at her with a mix of shock and knowing. "Oh, yeah. That's… that's nice," he smiled at her again, before saying, "but we should be going now. Mary?" He nodded at Molly and started to walk away. Mary grabbed Molly's hand again and shook it.

"I would really love to get together and talk sometime," she pulled out a pen and turned Molly's hand over and wrote a number on it. "Phone me anytime and we can get together. I'm new to the area and I need friends and you know John." Mary smiled again and turned to leave.

Molly stood there, unsure how to react to the events that had just happened. She held her belly and just stared after them.

Two days later, Molly went into labor. She didn't have anyone to call, no friends and her parents were dead. She called Mary.

"Hello?" Mary answered.

"Hi, um, hello. This is Molly Hooper. We met a couple of days ago at the shop?"

"Oh, hello Molly. I'm so glad you called."

Molly could hear the smile in Mary's voice. She suddenly felt silly for calling some woman she didn't even know.

"I'm sorry," She stopped and sucked in her breath. Contraction.

"Um, are you alright?"

Molly hesitated.

"Molly?"

The concern in Mary's voice broke through the pain and her uncertainty.

"I am so sorry to ask, but, well, I have no one else." She paused. "Is there any… any way at all…"

Mary interrupted her. "Molly, sweetie, what is it? If I can help, I will."

"I need a ride to the hospital. I'm, um, I'm in labor." Just as she finished speaking, another contraction hit. Molly cried out before stopping herself.

"Oh. Err, yes. Um, where do you live? I'll be right over." She sounded almost panicked. Molly gave her the address of her flat and they hung up.

Less than 20 minutes later, Mary knocked on Molly's door. Molly opened it and Mary rushed inside.

"What are we taking? Where is your bag? How are you? Are you ok?" The rush of questions tumbled out and Molly just stared. Mary laughed, "I'm sorry, this is a new situation for me. I've never had many girl friends and none that were ever pregnant. I really, ha, I really don't know what I'm doing or what to do here." She smiled at Molly again.

Molly grabbed her small bag by the door and went to walk out when another contraction hit. Mary grabbed her and took the bag. Mary started walking Molly to her car.

"Th… Thank you. I feel silly for calling, I ju… I just… I had no one else." Then the tears started.

Mary looked startled and said "Oh no, sweetie, don't worry. You can always call me." Mary squeezed Molly's hand and started the car.

22 hours of labor. 22 hours of pain. 22 hours with Mary holding her hand and helping her. In that 22 hours, a friendship was formed.

Mary and John never left Molly alone while she was at the hospital, and for the first two weeks back at her flat. It was hard enough having a new baby, but Molly had twins, and no partner to help her. John kept telling her that she should tell Mycroft, which she had absolutely no intention of doing. She barely knew Mycroft and she didn't want Sherlock to find out through his brother. The news might get him killed. Better that he not know.

The twins were 6 weeks early, but they were perfectly healthy. The boy was Benjamin John Hooper (Holmes) and the girl was Violet Louise Hooper (Holmes). They were perfect. Molly had never seen anything in the world as perfect as the two little bundles wrapped in her arms. Benjamin had a full head of curly black hair and piercing blue eyes that were always watching everything with interest. Violet had straight ginger hair, and not much at that. Her eyes were the same color as her brother's but she was always sleeping, content to let the world happen around her. Molly was overjoyed, and overwhelmed.

When John proposed the idea of having Mrs. Hudson nanny for her, Molly wasn't sure at first. She felt it would be an imposition to that impossibly nice lady. But in the end, Molly had no one else and she couldn't afford proper daycare. Mrs. Hudson was tickled with excitement over the two children, although she did scold Molly for not letting her condition be known before now. Molly chose to not tell anyone other than John and Mary that Sherlock was the father. She knew he still had enemies and didn't want to open her children to danger.

Mary was over most nights after work to help, and John came over sometimes too.

As time went on, everything became easier and Molly felt that her "normalcy" was restored. Mary and John were her children's godparents and Mrs. Hudson became "Nan." Molly was finally happy.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Molly and Mary became very close friends, although Molly felt there was an invisible wall between them. Molly couldn't tell Mary about Sherlock not being dead and Mary never talked about her past. Not that Molly could blame her. From what she had gathered, Mary's family had died when she was young and her life after that was less than pleasant.

They went shopping at least twice a month and they usually ended up going home with bags of things for the twins. Mary always tried to get her claws into Molly's wardrobe, picking out cute little things that showed off her body, and insisting on how gorgeous she looked and how she should show off what she has and snag a man to help her with the twins. This was always said with a sly smile and a wink and always caused Molly to blush furiously and giggle. Molly never bought any of the outfits though. She always opted for something for the kids or one of her bulky, crazy sweaters.

The two of them went out every Friday night to a diner that Sherlock used to frequent. Mary never said a word about Sherlock if she could help it, never asked questions or made Molly feel judged in any way.

One Saturday evening, after a round of shopping, they decided to go to the café for dinner. After they ate, they went to leave when a hand grabbed Molly's arm and stopped her. She almost screamed as she swung around. The hand let go immediately and shot into the air.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. Umm, you left this," The man belonging to the hand held out a bag of baby clothes with his other hand.

Molly looked at his face, then the bag, then back to his face. He was cute. Not Sherlock, but nice just the same. Molly stood there for a full minute with him smiling reassuringly at her, his smile faltering toward the end, before Mary stepped in and took the bag.

"Thank you, umm…?" She asked.

"Tom. Hi." He looked better now that he wasn't holding the bag any longer and he smiled at Molly again. Molly blushed.

"Well, I'm Mary and this is Molly." She paused as if waiting. When nothing came from Molly, Mary continued. "Do you come here often?"

"Tom glanced at Mary and said, "No, not really. I came to meet a friend. Do you? Come here often, I mean." He was looking at Molly again.

"Yes," Molly answered. She was blushing from head to toe and couldn't swipe the cheesy grin off her face.

"Ah, then I might have to make this my new hangout." He looked over to Mary and nodded and looked back to Molly and smiled brightly and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Mary called as she stepped forward and handed him a piece of paper. His smile grew and he walked back to his friend (a man, Molly observed) and the two women left the café.

They had barely cleared the door before Mary was talking a mile a minute about Tom. How tall he was. How handsome. How interested. That last bit with a nudge to Molly.

"You gave him my number. Didn't you?" Molly looked to Mary.

"If I say yes, are you going to hate me?"

"Good." And that was it. Molly smiled shyly the whole way back to her flat while Mary chatted her ear off. Molly decided it would probably be best to move on. Who knew where Sherlock was and if he was ever coming back to London? Plus, she needed to think about Ben and Violet. Children need two parents, and as hard as she tried, she was only one person.

Molly and Tom started dating and after about a month, she introduced him to the twins. Ben was stand offish but Violet was instantly charmed. That was the day Molly found out about Mycroft.

The twins were 16 months old when they met Tom, and they were talking very well. The only people they ever really saw were Molly, Mary, John and Mrs. Hudson. So Tom was the first tall person, or so Molly thought.

Violet held her arms up to tom and demanded "up." He complied and she wiggled until she was comfortable and she gave him her best smile. "You are tall like Mikey."

Molly's face screwed up in confusion. "Who?"

"Uncle Mikey is tall," Ben piped up. "I miss Uncle Mikey." He looked at Molly with the sulkiest of faces.

Molly was floored. How had he met them without her knowledge? She was sure he'd known about them, he knew secrets for a living after all, but how had he met them? Where had he met them? Who let him talk to them without telling her?

Tom looked slightly confused as her looked down at her.

"I didn't know you have a brother," he said.

"I don't," she answered.

"Oh," he paused, "their father's family?"

"Their father isn't really, umm, around. His family doesn't even know about them." She looked back down to Ben. "Where did you meet Uncle Mikey?"

"At Nan's," they chimed in unison. "Uncle John doesn't like Uncle Mikey much," Violet added.

Molly didn't know how to respond to this new information, so she just smiled and pretended that it hadn't happened.

That night went well, Molly thought. Although Tom didn't seem completely comfortable around the twins. Well, they often made people nervous at first, because they were so clever, but Tom would get used to them. She hoped.

Mary could hardly wait for the details on Tom meeting the twins, so she swung the door open and hurried Molly and the twins into the flat that she and John shared, the next morning.

Her smile quickly vanished when she saw Molly's barely concealed anger. Mary took the kids into the dining room that also doubled as the twins' playroom, then went to the bedroom to fetch John.

When they returned to the living area, Molly was pacing back and forth, burning hotter every second. She turned on John in a fury.

"You let Mycroft see my children," She stated in a deceptively even tone.

John looked around for a second and said, "What? Me?"

Molly could not hold back her anger any longer. "I told you that I didn't want anyone besides us and Mrs. Hudson to know about them being related to Sherlock. I expressly forbade any contact with Mycroft, especially without my consent, which you most defiantly did NOT have. If they were to meet their uncle, I was to be the one to initiate contact. Not you." She was bright red with anger and out of breath. John looked shocked. Maybe she was mistaken? Had John not been the one to introduce him to the twins?

"First off, I know your feelings on this matter and even if I happen to think you are wrong, you are their mother therefore only your opinion matters. Second, I would not risk losing them by making you angry. Thirdly, and quite obviously I might add, Mycroft does whatever he wants and you had to know he knew about the twins. I mean, he's Mycroft," with that last statement John gave Molly a speaking glance and she crumbled. She did know all of that. She should have known better.

"I, I am so sor… sorry," she started crying. All the anger that had been building up for the last ten hours had dissipated leaving only confusion and feelings of inadequacy. John had always told her she should let Mycroft be involved with the twins if he wanted to be, but Molly was feeling selfish and didn't want the constant reminder of Sherlock, or, to be honest, risk Mycroft telling Sherlock about them. She also didn't want anyone to find out that they were Sherlock's children, for their own safety. He still had enemies, after all.

Mary sat next to Molly on the sofa and rubbed her back soothingly. John sat across from the women in his new chair.

"So," he said, "they've met Mycroft. Where? And how did you find out?"

"At Mrs. Hudson's. And (*hiccough*) Violet said that Tom was tall like (*hiccough*), like 'Uncle Mikey'."

John's face twitched in humor and he looked away from her. "Uncle Mikey, huh? Well, that's… Ha, not gonna forget that one." He smiled at her and the three of them began laughing. Mary had never met Mycroft but she'd heard the stories.

"So, tell me all about it. How'd it go? Did they like him?" Mary was full of questions and happily changed the topic.

"It went… well, I think."

Mary looked puzzled.

"Well, Violet loved him, but Benny… I'm not sure. And they made Tom nervous."

"Oh, well that always happens," Mary laughed. "You gave birth to geniuses Molly."

They all smiled again and on went the conversation.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry this took me so long to get up. I was on vacation and where i was had no internet connection. I will update soon to try and make up for it. I hope you all like it and thank you for reading my little story :) Any comments and/or suggestions are appreciated. And a special thank you to TardisNamedJack for beta-ing for me :D you are the best!

I do not own Sherlock.

Chapter 5

"Sir, there is a woman here to see you," the office aide announced.

"Not now. I'm very busy," Mycroft replied, not looking up from the documents he was examining.

"Sir, she is not taking no for an answer," his aide added nervously.

"Oh very well, bring her in. Quickly." Mycroft closed the file and moved it off to the side of his desk, just as Molly Hooper crossed his threshold.

"Ah, Doctor Hooper. I expected you would be darkening my doorstep at some point. If you have called to tell me of my niece and nephew, I am already aware of them, so you needn't have wasted your time in coming here." He looked back down to his desk. When no movement indicating the expected response to his last words, he looked back up at her. Molly sat herself down on the chair in front of Mycroft's desk and stared at him. Mycroft stared back. "Was there something else?" he asked sardonically.

"Why yes," Molly replied. "I have come to inquire as to why you have put my children in danger?" Mycroft's eyebrows shot up. Definitely not what he had been expecting. He had anticipated that she would be angry about him going behind her back to meet the children, but really, what did the woman expect? They were his family and he had every right to know them.

"I beg your pardon?" His voice hinting at anger while smothered in calm.

"You put my children in danger by announcing that they are related to you, and by extension, Sherlock." She paused. "You both have many enemies and now your enemies know of my children's existence. I will not have them put in harm's way. That is the main reason that I did not inform you of their births." She sat very still and stared at him, waiting for his next move.

Mycroft shifted slightly and cleared his throat. "Well, I had to know that they were being taken care of properly, after all, and I had no contact with you to find out."

"You never asked," was all Molly replied, a small smile creasing the corners of her mouth.

Mycroft glared at her. "Would you have told me anything if I had asked?"

Molly thought about that for a moment then answered, "Yes, but with restrictions."

Mycroft looked obviously confused. "What _do_ you mean?"

"I don't want Sherlock to know about them." She paused. "You haven't told him, have you?"

"No, I have not informed my brother that he has two children to expect upon his return - if he returns. It would distract him. Why do you not wish him to know?"

"Same as you. I don't want him distracted. I want him alive and well, and knowing this, no matter what he would say, would distract him and possibly get him killed."

Mycroft looked at Molly as if with new eyes. "I couldn't agree more. However, I do wish to spend time with the twins."

Molly regarded him for a moment. "Before I agree, I want to know, how did you meet them?"

"Mrs. Hudson runs a café. I tend to eat occasionally. They were there."

Molly smiled slightly again. "Alright. You can see them, but you must let me know ahead of time. I'd prefer to expect, rather than be surprised with, the stories that will come with them seeing their 'Uncle Mikey'." Mycroft's face soured at the use of the nickname the twins had for him. Somehow, coming from them, the endearment didn't seem as grating on his nerves. Molly's smile grew and asked, "Do we have a deal?"

"Indeed we do, Doctor Hooper."

Molly stood up and walked to the door, turning to face Mycroft as her hand was on the handle. Her curiosity was piqued. "Why did you seek them out? You and Sherlock barely got on. You two can hardly stand to be in the same room together for more than a couple of minutes."

"That animosity does not extend to his children. They are quite charming." Mycroft cleared his throat and shooed her out. Molly nodded and left.

The weekends became full. More full than previously, if that were possible. The twins went back and forth, from home to the Watson's, Mrs. Hudson's and now visits with Mycroft. Molly worked a full- time job. When not working, she managed to spend time with Mary, and also Tom, while leaving most of her free time open to her children. They both grew by leaps and bounds.

Molly noticed Benjamin coming out of his shell a little bit more now that he had Uncle Mikey to relate to. Molly wasn't sure how she felt about Benny relating to Mycroft, but Benny was Sherlock in miniature so she guessed it made sense that he would pattern himself after the same man his father had.

Violet was the social butterfly. She loved everyone and everyone loved her. Molly found small presents in Violet's bag after spending time with Mycroft, which Violet insisted had come from Auntie Thea. When Molly asked about this person, Mycroft shook his head and corrected "Anthea," his assistant.

Molly was glad that the twins now had actual family to spend time with, not that John, Mary and Mrs. Hudson weren't family, but this was different. Molly knew that Mycroft was a very busy man. Be that as it may, every Sunday, without fail, he would take them for the entire day. The children never complained and were always happy to go and sad to come home.


	6. Chapter 6

I promised another update soon and here it is loves :) Thank you TardisNamedJack for being my beta :)

Chapter 6

2 months later

Sherlock watched as Molly ended her shift at St. Bart's morgue and went back to the locker room. She hung up her lab coat and grabbed her coat. He saw pictures covering both the inside and outside of her locker. Pictures of two small children, a boy and girl, and pictures obviously drawn by said children. They were just scribbles but he saw the affection in her eyes when she looked at them. She put on her scarf and grabbed her hat and purse and turned to leave. And there he was. Standing in the doorway.

Her breath caught and he watched her face light up and she smiled brilliantly at him. She stood there, just smiling at him, and he realized that she was waiting for his cue on how she should react. He took a step forward and smiled back at her. She walked up to him, grabbed his coat collar and pulled his face down to her own and kissed him.

Sherlock was slightly taken aback. This was definitely not the welcome John had led him to believe was waiting for him.

John had been furious with Sherlock. First for letting him believe for two years that Sherlock was dead, and second for not being there for Molly and _his_ children. Sherlock had stared blankly at John. Unreasonable anger had bubbled up in Sherlock at that moment and he had socked John across the face, the one and only hit from him the whole evening. John flew backwards and came up swinging. Mary diffused the situation by pulling the men apart and firmly telling John to calm down, as this must be quite the shock for Sherlock.

Sherlock had sat down and stared off into nothing as his mind tried to wrap around the idea of children; his and Molly's children. Wait, children? Not child? Twins, was the obvious explanation. But why had no one contacted him about them? Mycroft had to have known. And yet he'd stayed silent. For two years.

When his eyes focused again on the man and woman in front of him, they were looking at him with confusion. They had been talking and he hadn't heard a word. That was very not like him, he heard and saw everything, he just tended to delete quite a bit of it.

"Sorry, what?"

"Go tell Molly you are back. She has the right to know. And meet your children," said John.

"They are the most amazing children in the world," Said Mary with a note of pride in her voice.

Sherlock had been in a daze as he'd taken a cab to Bart's to find Molly.

They were still kissing, her arms had released his collar and wrapped themselves around his shoulders and his arms had snaked around her waist. It was obvious she had missed him. When they finally came up for air, she took a step back.

"Oh, sorry. Um, I'm so happy you're not dead. Err, I mean alive, not 'not dead'. Or safe. Yes, I'm glad you are home safe. Well, home, I mean as in your home on Baker Street of course. Oh, um, I'll stop talking now." She turned the shade of her sweater, and deep blood red.

Sherlock smiled softly and reached for her. "I missed you too, Molly Hooper. And I am very safe, very alive and very much home."

His eyes caught the pictures on her locker again and it brought back his harsh reality. She looked to where his eyes had landed and pushed herself away from him quickly and tried to stand in front of the locker. He let her. His smiled had faded and she looked uncomfortable yet again.

"So," he said, 'I hear congratulations are in order." His tone was light but full of meaning. Molly blushed harder and shuffled her feet, not meeting his gaze.

Sherlock stepped past her and took one of the pictures off of her locker and examined it. There was a little boy and girl hugging and smiling brightly at the camera. The boy had black curls and blue eyes and looked exactly like Sherlock. The little girl had straight ginger hair and blue eyes, she looked just as he assumed Molly had looked like at that age, only with Sherlock's eyes. In another picture the children's eyes were almost green, and he noticed that they changed in each picture, just as his own did.

Molly did nothing as he took removed each photo from the locker door, placing them one by one into his coat pocket.

When he turned to leave, he glanced at her briefly and made his way towards the door.

"Come home with me," Molly blurted out, then looking horrified that she had said it out loud. He looked at her, really looked and saw pain and heartache, and love. He was unsure how to respond. He wanted to, but he wasn't sure how to handle meeting the children. He had never liked children and they never liked him. Would his own be different?

Molly looked so nervous. Finally she said, "You don't have to. I'm sure you have better things to do anyway. People to see and catch up with," she smiled tightly and moved forward. His hand caught her arm and held her until she looked up at him.

"I'll be by later. I do have some people I need to see. I also think that it would be best to meet the children when I have had more time to prepare myself."

"Ben and Violet. Their names are Benjamin and Violet."

He smiled at her released her arm. She stood there for a moment longer before turning to leave. He watched her go. When he couldn't see her anymore, he shook his head to clear it and made his way out of the hospital to find Lestrade.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you to TardisNamedJack for being my beta :) I couldn't do this without your support and awesomeness!

Chapter 7

It was after midnight when Molly heard a soft tapping at her front door. She had been sitting in the living room watching telly. Well, to be honest, she'd had the telly on as background noise while she waited somewhat impatiently for Sherlock to show up, if he showed up. She had tried to watch whatever was on, but she couldn't get interested.

Molly jumped up and yanked the door open. Sherlock's eyes looked her up and down and he shifted uncomfortably. Molly looked down at herself. She was in her pajamas; a slightly baggy white t-shirt with Oscar the Grouch and super fluffy blue pants with cookie monster all over them. Nothing spectacular, although now she wished she had thought ahead better. But these were her favorites. The twins had given them to her for Christmas this year and it made them so happy to see her in them.

Molly stood aside and pulled the door open wider to let Sherlock in. Molly was nervous, and Sherlock's facial expression said he was as well. He walked inside and she closed the door. They stared at each other for a moment before she went and sat back down in her chair and waited for him to sit or speak or whatever was coming.

Sherlock looked around the small flat and saw toys stacked up neatly in the corner, shoes were put on shelves by the door, coats and hats were hung up on little hooks by the door that were placed knee height on the wall, perfect for little children. The entire place had been taken over by children. But he guessed, that's what happens when one has children. And now that someone was him. How would children fit into his life? He had never given it thought before.

He glanced over at Molly, who was watching his every move.

"I have to go," he said as he turned around and walked right back out of Molly's home, closing the door behind him.

Molly stared, dumbfounded at her front door. Had that really just happened? Well that answered how he felt about the twins. Or did it? Sherlock Had never been one to flaunt his feelings, let alone admit that he had them.

Maybe it was just too much for him, waking up one day and learning you have two children.

Molly got up and locked the door, turned off the telly and went to her bed.

She laid there for two hours, and before finally drifting off into a troubled sleep, she thought, "Oh God. How am I going to tell Tom?"

Sherlock walked around London for hours in a daze. His mind wasn't working properly and he couldn't focus.

Mycroft had to have known, yet he had said nothing and there had been no reason for the idea to occur to Sherlock that this situation would present itself.

Also, he had seen the evidence of Molly's new boyfriend. It had to be a new relationship because he wasn't living with Molly and Molly hadn't said anything to him yet about a boyfriend.

Did she need to? Would he decide to become involved in the lives of Molly and her children? Well, Molly, obviously. She was his pathologist after all. Wait, was she still? It _had_ been two years, and now she had children and a somewhat serious relationship with another man.

Sherlock needed to figure out what was happening in his life and what he was going to do about it.

Sherlock looked up and found himself standing outside of 221B Baker Street. A small smile spread across his face. Ah, to be home. And he walked inside.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock bellowed as he entered the office of the older man.

Mycroft looked up and a sly smile spread across his face. "Well. This is a surprise, brother dear."

Sherlock glared at him. "How long have you known? Why did you not tell me?"

Mycroft saw Sherlock's unease and anger and just smiled more brightly. "Well, brother, I naturally assumed that you knew. After all, there really is only one way for this situation to come about. I rather thought that would be something you would not have forgotten about."

Sherlock knew he was lying. It was written bright as day across his brother's face that he was baiting him.

"Why didn't you tell me, Mycroft? When I came back to London you should have told me. Why didn't you?" Sherlock was doing his best to calm down, but honestly, how could his brother have not told him that he had a child. Well, two children.

"Well, I thought that would have been obvious," Mycroft raised his brow. "The lovely Doctor Hooper asked me not to." The smirk on Mycroft's face was infuriating to Sherlock, who was holding back his temper as well as he could. He knew that Mycroft was just waiting to gloat over another blow up, so Sherlock just glared at the older man.

The wheels in Sherlock's head started clicking then and he realized something. "She was worried about me. Worried that I would become distracted and get killed. But that doesn't explain why you stood there letting me go on and on about seeing John again, and not once did you mention children or even Molly. You stood there smirking at me and having a grand old time I'm sure, watching as I made a fool out of myself." Sherlock found himself getting angrier the more he talked so he stopped and continued glaring at his brother.

"So, have you met them yet? I rather think not, judging from your behavior." And the smirking continued.

Sherlock turned around and walked out the way he came. Mycroft's smile grew as his little brother left.

It had been three days since Molly had seen Sherlock and during that time she had avoided pretty much everyone she knew. She stayed home with the children, taking some of her holiday time off from work. Ben and Violet were ecstatic about extra mommy time and did a wonderful job of taking her mind off of things.

After lunch, the twins were playing in the living room while Molly cleaned up the kitchen. There was a knock at the door and Molly looked over at her little ones. They looked up for a second then went back to playing. Molly walked over to the front door and opened it and all color drained from her face.

There stood Sherlock and Tom. Together. Outside of her flat.


	8. Chapter 8

So it might be a little while before i am able to update again. i have a lot going on right now, but i will do my absolute best to update as soon as i can. Thank you to TardisNamedJack for being my beta.

Chapter 8

Molly stood there staring at the two men outside her door. Sherlock and Tom stood there in obvious discomfort glancing back and forth between Molly and each other.

"Um, hi, uh, Molly," stammered Tom glancing again at Sherlock. Sherlock glared at Tom for a quick second, then looked back at Molly.

"Hello Molly, I see you have company, I will come back later." Sherlock turned to leave when he felt a hand on his arm stopping him.

"No wait." Molly's voice was small and Sherlock barely heard her. "Umm, Tom," she turned to Tom, "I-I need to see Sherlock, umm, alone." She look apologetically at Tom.  
"I-I'm sorry, Tom. Would you m-mind coming back later?"

Tom looked so confused and his head was pinging back and forth as if he was at a tennis match between Molly and Sherlock. "Umm, Molly, are you sure? I mean, I could just wait here and-"

"She said alone," piped up Sherlock as he walked into Molly's flat and shut the door behind himself, pulling Molly in with him. "Now, I would like to meet my children."

Sherlock smiled his sarcastic smile but his face fell and was replaced by shock when Molly slapped him.

"That was completely uncalled for Sherlock Holmes." Molly whispered angrily at him.

"But, you don't need him anymore. I am back now. I won't have some no account, pansy boy raising my children and having my…" he stopped short. What was Molly to him exactly? He knew he had feelings for her, like the ones he had for John. They were the most important people in the world to him.

"Your what, Sherlock?" Molly asked him. "What am I to you? What do you think is going to happen here? You left. You left. Not one word in two years. Two years, Sherlock!" Molly didn't realize that she had raised her voice until she felt little hands tugging at her hands. She looked down into the faces of her children, seeing concern written all over the cute miniature versions of herself and Sherlock.

"Mummy?" Ben was quiet and shy, but he was worried about Molly, she never raised her voice around them.

"Oh, I'm sorry sweethearts, I-I didn't mean to startle you. Go play in your room and Mummy will be there in just a couple of minutes." She smiled at them reassuringly but neither of them budged.

"Mummy, this Daddy?" Violet asked, all curiosity. Molly didn't know what to say or do. She looked up to Sherlock, who cleared his throat.

"Err, yes. Yes, I am… Daddy?" the last word caught in his throat and he was unsure of himself in that moment. Violet reached over and slid her hand into his and squeezed gently.

"Come. Let's play," she said to her newly found father. Ben gripped Molly's hand a little bit tighter. "Come, Brother, play," Violet called to him. Ben looked back to Molly.

"Mummy?"

"You can go, sweetie," she tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear and smiled.

"Mummy, want Uncle Mikey," was the little boy's reply.

"Oh, darling, Uncle Mikey is very busy. It is Friday, and you know you don't see Uncle Mikey except on Sundays." She squatted down next to Ben and put her arms around him and looked over to where Violet had taken Sherlock. Violet had sat her father on a pretty pink pillow on the floor and had handed him a teacup that he was expected to drink from. Sherlock was surrounded by frills and pink and dolls. He looked distinctly uncomfortable and Molly couldn't suppress the soft laugh that escaped her lips at the sight.

Ben pulled away from Molly and looked to his sister. Deciding that he didn't want to be left out, he went to join the tea party. Molly followed him and stood in the doorway watching her children interact with their father for the first time ever.

Violet was instructing her father on how to properly hold his teacup, and both father and son rolled their eyes at her. Molly chuckled and caught Sherlock's attention. He raised a brow and then his face changed to one of pleading.

"Molly, can we talk?" His voice was soft yet demanding.

"No, drink tea, Daddy. I make more now," Violet interrupted with a bright smile on her face. When Sherlock went to move anyway, Violet pushed on his shoulders. "Sit, Daddy. Drink tea." Her face was stern and he almost laughed at her.

"I am an adult. I intend to get up and speak with your mother. You may… continue your playtime without me," Sherlock insisted.

Violet's hands went straight to her hips and in that moment, she was her mother in miniature. "Daddy," she started, "You need play now. Talk Mommy later." And with that she picked up her own teacup and sat on Sherlock's knee. Not to be outdone by his sister, Ben jumped up and sat on Sherlock's other knee.

Again, Sherlock looked to Molly for help. Molly laughed and cleared her throat.

"Darlings, umm, Mummy needs to talk to Daddy. May I borrow him for 5 minutes? I promise to bring him back."

Both children deflated slightly. "Oookaay," they said together and they got up.

Sherlock practically jumped up and quickly removed himself from the room. Molly hesitated slightly and then winked at the twins and followed Sherlock, slowly.

Sherlock was so incredibly uncomfortable. What had happened? First, he shows up to see Molly and there was some man standing at her door. A man that looked significantly like himself. Obviously his surrogate. That bothered him more than it should have. Molly found some cheap look-a-like to play father to his children. That was bad enough, then to be attacked by two little… he needed to calm down and think. Molly was obviously enchanted by his short time with the children. That was… good. Or was it? If Molly approved of his way with the children she would get rid of his "doppleganger." But Sherlock knew nothing about dealing with children.

"So… you, umm, you came back," Molly initiated. She fidgeted a little bit and glanced up at Sherlock. He stared down at her.

"Of course I came back," he snapped, then closed his eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Molly. I just… I don't know how to handle this situation. I never…" He paused and took a step toward her. "Molly, this was never…"

Molly wrapped her arms around him again and put her head on his chest. "Oh Sherlock, this wasn't anyone's plan." She squeezed him slightly and his arms wrapped around her body and held her close. "Please, Sherlock, give them a chance. They are the most perfect children and if you let them, they will love you completely." She raised her head and looked deeply into his blue-green eyes. Sherlock bent and kissed her.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Molly should have seen it coming, and she desperately wanted this, but Tom. What about Tom? She had to stop this.

"Sherlock," she pulled back, "we can't." She closed her eyes and swallowed as she stepped backwards, or at least she tried to. Sherlock didn't let his grip on her slacken, he pulled her back to his body.

"Why not? I am back now and I am not going to be leaving again."

Molly blinked at him. He was serious.

"That is great, Sherlock, but you were gone for two years. I moved on. I… I have Tom now." Molly blushed as she looked into Sherlock's eyes and watched as confusion took over his features. Sherlock let her go and took a step back.

"Are you serious? But _I'm_ back. You have been wanting this for 5 years, Molly. Why are you saying no now?" Sherlock was getting angry.

Molly felt her anger rising again. "Sherlock, the world doesn't start and stop depending on what you decide to do. I am with Tom now. I am not leaving him only because you happen to drop back into my life. You are more than welcome to come and spend time with the twins, but there will be nothing between you and me." She turned and walked back to the twins' room. She turned back to look at him, "are you coming? You did promise to come back and play."

Sherlock growled softly and muttered to himself as he slowly walked over to the door and looked at his children. His _children_. _His_ children. The girl, Violet, was spunky. He secretly liked it. The boy though, Benjamin, was very shy. Sherlock liked that as well. He was quiet but very perceptive. Both children were looking at him expectantly. He almost looked to Molly, but his anger stopped him. He walked into the room and sat down again on the pink pillow. Violet lit up and handed her father a teacup.

"Drink, Daddy," Violet smiled and pushed the teacup up to Sherlock's lips. He automatically leaned back, away from the forced teacup, and toppled backward with Violet on his chest giggling. Ben wanted to be a part of the fun and jumped on Sherlock as well. Sherlock groaned at the unexpected weight on his chest and stomach. This was definitely going to take some getting used to.

Molly was in the kitchen, finishing the dishes, listening to the happy noises her children were making and Sherlock's groaning and deep voice as he talked to the twins. She smiled to herself for a moment. This was a good thing. Her children needed their father and if he was willing to be involved in their lives she would never deny him. But just because he was back didn't mean that she was going to leave Tom high and dry and go be with Sherlock. She _was_ over him after all.

When Molly was done with the dishes she snuck over to see what was happening in the twins' room. Sherlock was laying on his stomach, with one child on each side of him and he was reading a book to them. Well, he was sort of reading it. Sherlock would read a page and then detail how that course of events didn't make any sense and why would a bird think that a cat was his mother? Or a dog? Or a bulldozer? And what kind of rubbish was this book anyway?

Molly laughed silently to herself and went to the couch and curled up with a book.

"Daddy, I hungry," Violet told Sherlock, rubbing her stomach.

"Hungry," Ben agreed doing the same thing.

Sherlock went to fetch Molly, and found her asleep on the couch, an open book on her lap. A smile came to his lips at the sight, but he pushed it away. He needed to figure out what to feed the children. What did children eat? He went to the kitchen and started opening cabinets.

After opening and closing the fifth cabinet door, Sherlock had the realization that he really had no idea how to cook anything, he would have to wake Molly. He didn't want to, he wanted to prove to her that he was fully capable of taking care of his, their, children. If he could take care of the children on his own, Molly would see that she didn't need that look-a-like twit and he would have her back.

"Daddy?" Sherlock felt the tugging on his trousers, he looked down to Violet. She handed him Molly's mobile phone. "Nana." He took the phone.

"Am I to phone her for food?"

"Yes," both children responded.

Sherlock unlocked Molly's phone and searched for Mrs. Hudson. He almost sent her a text but remembered that she only dealt with actual phone calls. He pushed the call button and waited for her to pick up.

Molly awoke to her children crawling on her lap for their nighttime hugs and kisses. They were already in their pajamas and had their hair and teeth brushed, she could smell the toothpaste. She smiled and scooped them up and squeezed them tightly.

"I am so sorry that I fell asleep. Oh god!" she looked to Sherlock, "they need dinner!" Molly jumped up and almost ran to the kitchen. She stopped short when she saw the dirty dishes soaking in the sink. Sherlock fed them. _Sherlock_ fed them? She looked back at him. "What did they have for dinner?"

Sherlock looked pleased as punch. He puffed up and said, "They had shepherd's pie and apple tarts. There is some for you as well, I placed it in the oven."

Molly stood there staring at Sherlock in utter disbelief. He had fed them? Why hadn't he woken her up? She knew that he had to have called someone to bring them food; she could have cooked dinner, she had planned on it even. Who had he called? Mrs. Hudson, of course. Only Mrs. Hudson would have had food prepared and ready to bring over at a moment's notice.

Molly noted the slightly concerned look sneaking on to Sherlock's face, then she saw the children staring at her as well.

"Mummy?" Ben said as he grabbed her hand. "Bedtime now," and he tugged her toward the bedroom. Violet had Sherlock's hand and was doing the same. Together they tucked the twins into their respective beds and wished them good night. Molly bent and kissed both of their heads.

As Molly and Sherlock were leaving Violet yelped, "Daddy! Kisses!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and went to give Violet a light kiss on her forehead. Violet grabbed his face and gave him a kiss on his cheek and giggled. "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Stay here?" Violet looked as if she was about to cry.

Sherlock jerked his head towards Molly. "What happened? She was fine a second ago." The panic in his voice made Molly grin.

"She loves you. She wants you to be here when she wakes up." Molly shifted her attention to Violet. "Darling, Daddy has to go home tonight. You will see him again soon."

"But, Daddy stay here now."

Sherlock didn't know what to do. He sat there unable to figure this situation out. His daughter wanted him to stay, but her mother wanted him gone. This was getting ridiculous. Did he even want to stay? Molly was obviously committed to this farce with that boy and he really didn't even like children, so what reason did he have to stay?

"I am going to my home tonight. Go to sleep now." Sherlock turned and left the room and Violet began crying.


End file.
